At Fault
by Duilin
Summary: 'She was the last person he wanted to see here.' Starring Galad Estel's Ambrae and Beleg Cúthalion in a story of slight tragedy, some humor, and friendship to romance. Part of the Your Character fictions. Rated T for definite death.


_**To Galad Estel:**_

**This is for you, my friend. I hope Ambrae was - at least, to some measure - how you envisioned her.**

**I decided to make this into a one-shot because of the length. I hadn't intended for this to be so long, and it just really screamed at me that it needed to stand alone, so here it is - in one piece and one chapter. The story of Ambrae and Beleg.**

(**Note**: The date F.A. 486 is not accurate, but one that is would be F.A. 465 (that was the year that Finrod perished). Each of the events that are not known were all in the years of a character's death. I gave a simple date for each event, trying to fit everything into the actual plotline. All OCs that are _not_ Ambrae are owned by me. Ambrae is in the custody of Galad Estel, and all of the other characters that are canon are owned by J.R.R. Tolkien.)

(_Postcript: _Beleg's history was not mentioned, so I created a - hopefully - realistic past for him. It might be a little too tragic, but that's how I picture him becoming the great Elf he is.)

_Sindarin names:  
><em>Aegas - mountain peak  
>Alagos - windstorm<br>Lithaer - sand sea  
>Caildae - fence shadow<p>

* * *

><p><em>(Unknown year - Halls of Mandos)<em>

She was the last person he wanted to see here.

Really, Beleg had expected her to last longer in the world, to stay out of danger like she promised all those years ago. When he caught sight of her auburn hair, he immediately felt a pang seize his heart in a sense of pain. Then she turned, and he saw her chocolate brown eyes, just as warm as ever. She was smiling sadly at each fëa that greeted her, their welcomes filled with bitterness at her loss and happiness that she could finally find a resting place.

He could never forget her, and her name rolled off of his tongue easily.

Ambrae.

A smile found its way onto his lips, and he waited for her to meander over, knowing that she felt a familiar presence in these Halls. There was a searching look in her face, as if she could not find what she sook. Those eyes of hers, ever flickering from brown to golden in a sudden surge of emotion, seemed to scan through the crowds, passing right over Beleg...and fixing onto him.

Ambrae smiled.

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 484 - Menegroth)<em>

"I just want to learn this _one_ technique, Beleg. _One_. It shouldn't even count as one, but if you insist... Still."

Beleg rolled his eyes at Ambrae's determination to learn that one move. "Absolutely not. I don't want you to start making that your trademark move; your arm will never be able to work again. Many have attempted to - are you even listening to me?"

Ambrae, who had momentarily glanced at the flickering torch light, turned back to Beleg. "Of course I am, Beleg. If I didn't listen to you, I would be absolutely lost in life. Which reminds me...I came up with a new poem. It suddenly popped into my head after I saw you training."

_"What?_"

She snorted. "Don't act as if it's so unnatural for me to watch you train. Lithaer does it too, and she spends more than an hour watching you - "

"The _poem_, Ambrae?"

Ambrae grinned at him before stopping in the middle of the hallway and taking a deep breath. Then she shot him a pointed glance before saying, "There is a small forest land, in which a bowman tries his hand. He tries to shoot the tree - instead misses on chances three. In frustration he throws down the bow, and a butterfly brushes against a leaf flying low. He watches it fly, surely and strongly as it aims for the blue sky. He picks up the wood, holds it carefully as he should - and aims once, twice, and thrice at the pinewood tree. All he really needed was to know he was truly free."

Beleg admitted that Ambrae did have a knack of being a poet at unfortunate and inconvenient times. He had a feeling that she was referring to that one time... "Are you alluding to my impatience in the woods? Because it was just that _one_ time."

"Exactly. _One_ time. And this is just _one_ technique. So, Beleg, would you _please_ teach me?"

Beleg was just about to tell her - lecture, really - on how improper it would be to teach her anything related to weapons, when a wide-eyed Elf came running past, _'urgent!'_ basically screaming in his footsteps. On initial reaction, Beleg stopped him shortly and inquired as to what had the Elf in such a rush.

The Elf, Alagos, responded breathily, "Lord Saeros has fallen to his death!"

There was an intake of breath from Beleg's right - Ambrae had inhaled sharply upon the word 'fallen.'

Beleg turned, smiling wryly to Ambrae. "My response will have to wait."

* * *

><p><em>(Unknown year - Halls of Mandos)<em>

"I thought you said you would try to stay _out_ of danger," he admonished.

Ambrae looked slightly sheepish. "I...well... I couldn't really stay _out_ of danger because the danger came to Menegroth. Everything was razed and ravaged. I was, in fact, fighting. And guess which bow technique I used?"

Beleg crossed his translucent arms and rolled his eyes. "I am glad that I taught you - though it doesn't seem to have done its job in keeping you _alive_, as my intentions were. Did I mention that you broke your promise to me?"

"I certainly couldn't keep it when death embraced me right on the entrance to the caves," she reasoned. "Besides. I could take care of myself, without promising you to stay out of danger."

"I made you swear because I knew you wouldn't be able to do it without motivation."

"Motivation? You practically cursed me to live forever."

"You're here, aren't you?"

"...Touché."

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 484 - Menegroth)<em>

Ambrae quietly sneaked along the shadows, trying to making herself as scarce as possible along the hallway of the caves. Half of her shoulder was slightly pressed up against the wall, while her other shoulder she cradled in silent pain. A bow was strapped to her back, and the quiver slightly askew, also slung over her arm carelessly.

Or in this case, hurriedly.

She almost, _almost_ made it to her rooms when -

"Ambrae?"

She swore. Then she turned around, hand dropping to her side as she smiled at the voice's owner, Beleg. "Greetings, Beleg! What are you doing so...early in the morning?"

He cut straight to the chase, leaving no room for small talk and excuses. "What happened to your shoulder?"

Ambrae stalled and pretended to glance at her uninjured shoulder. "What do you mean, 'what happened to your shoulder?' My shoulder is just fine." She glanced at him, a hint of defiance in her eyes. "Do you have a problem with my shoulder?"

Beleg's eyes narrowed, and he strode over, taking her sore shoulder carefully into his touch. She winced slightly, and a triumphant expression crossed his face at being proved right. Then he sighed and gently skimmed his fingers over where it was presumably dislocated, and he looked into her eyes, waiting for the scream. Ambrae didn't yield, however, and stared right back at him, eyes full of clarity and pride - or, rather, what was left of her pride.

Suddenly, Beleg quickly maneuvered around her and pushed her elbow upward, slamming a hand into her shoulder.

Menegroth had never heard such a...succinct scream.

* * *

><p><em>(Unknown year - Halls of Mandos)<em>

"I still haven't forgiven you for doing that," warned Ambrae.

Beleg smiled. "Your shoulder was dislocated; I put it back in its place. Otherwise, you would have been in even more pain, and I bet the blow to your arm was almost nothing compared to the damage your dignity took."

She seemed to contemplate whether or not to push him and/or punch him. She did neither and instead said, "The damage to my dignity was furthered when you made me swear to stay out of danger."

Beleg's expression turned from smiling to frowning. "It was for your safety. I, unlike one of the two of us, actually care for your wellbeing. If I hadn't made you promise, you would have ended up in the stomach of Morgoth himself, what with your horrible luck and all."

"Then you should have let me." Her molten brown eyes spoke of another situation, and Beleg had the uncomfortable feeling that she was thinking of that exact event that had happened so long ago. She seemed to stare into his soul, and he shifted from foot to foot. He pretended not to know what she was speaking of.

"Let you what?" he responded innocently, green eyes alight with mock befuddlement.

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 465 - Woods near Menegroth)<em>

Ambrae wasn't too keen on hunting. But when Beleg asked her to join him on a small outing, she believed that Beleg was asking her to accompany him, not with a group of Elves to go hunting, but as a simple trip with _just the two of them_. So when Mablung suddenly turned up, a lazy smile on his face, Ambrae was quite surprised and wondered why he was here. She stupidly asked him what he was doing so early in the morning.

"Well, Beleg wanted to go hunting today and asked a number of people to come with him," he replied cheerfully.

She sure felt like an idiot. "Oh."

"What are you doing out here?"

Shoulders slightly slumping, she responded with a slight dejection. "I'm coming too."

And before Mablung could wonder about why she sounded so sad, Beleg arrived with two more Elves behind him—Aegas and Lithaer. Ambrae's eyes, though, brightened when she saw Beleg, and Mablung deducted that there was something going on.

Beleg was extremely cheerful. "Are we all ready?"

* * *

><p><em>(Unknown year - Halls of Mandos)<em>

Ambrae scrutinized Beleg's innocent expression. It wasn't fooling her in the least, and he certainly looked uncomfortable, as if reminded of the bitterness of what had happened. She almost smiled at the way his eyes dimmed with remembrance, and a small part of her felt satisfied that she could provoke such a reaction from him. He resorted to simply staring at the stone grey floor, not daring to meet her knowing gaze.

"Let you what?" he said at last, glancing at her with a fake innocence.

"You know exactly what."

They stared at each other for quite a long time, and Ambrae wasn't tiring at all. This almost rejuvenated her fiery spirit, and she felt a familiar tingling in her fingers that signalised smugness. Beleg, on the other hand, was starting to build up even more discomfort, and the way she looked at him—as if he were the dearest thing on Arda—didn't help in the least. He honestly did not want her to be here, because of what it made him realise.

After all those years, there was a reason behind his protectiveness and slight aloofness.

He refused to admit it, knowing that Ambrae would get hurt.

He showed it, making her promise to stay out of danger.

And now, she was here, in the Halls of Mandos with him, having died at the Second Kinslaying.

Those that he loved just always ended up dead.

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 465 - Woods near Menegroth)<em>

Beleg quickly reached out and grasped Ambrae's wrist, before her hand lost its grip on the root of the uprooted tree. In one sharp tug, he pulled her back over the side of the cliff and stumbled backwards, tripping over a log and landing on his back. Instinctively, he made to get up, to overreact and hold Ambrae and tell her never to do that again, but Ambrae landed right on him, forcing him onto his back once again.

Air _whooshed_ out of him, and Ambrae quickly got off, placing her back against the fallen tree and sitting on the rock floor. She was breathing heavily, as if she had been through some painstaking ordeal. Her eyes flickered over to him, and he was frowning severely.

"Thanks," she said, breathing in with relief. "I almost—"

"You almost died," he finished. "And I almost died myself, seeing you fall."

She looked quite embarrassed. "Sorry."

"Sorry doesn't even cover it."

She sighed. "What about begging for forgiveness?"

"Not even close."

Ambrae was really about to get up and smack Beleg upside the head when she found herself in a strong, firm embrace. Her nose met tunic, and she blinked, looking up. The green eyes of Beleg stared down at her, and they were filled with immense relief and joy, as if he had accomplished saving all of Arda from Morgoth and was now holding freedom in his hands. But the longer she stared into those green-leaf eyes, the more quickly she realised that it was relief and joy at saving her.

She opened her mouth to speak, but his expression simply left her speechless. "I—"

"Don't ever do that to me again."

He was smiling.

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 375 - Unknown location)<em>

Lightning flashed, and the shadowed form of an Elf's face appeared. The figure had silver hair and green eyes, and he looked down emotionlessly at the body at his feet. An arrow sat in his slack grip, and the bow was swung carelessly over his shoulder. Rain poured down from the heavens, making it impossible to see the tears that ran down his face as a rivulet of water down a mountain path stream. Then, the lightning flashed once more, and the grip on the arrow tightened.

Beleg did not speak as the body of his brother was lighted again.

He listlessly cast his gaze across the field of corpses, the place reeking of death and blood and anger. The spirit of the battlefield still resonated off of the entire landscape, and what was left of the trees susurrated mournfully in their broken leaves.

Bodies were all about, strewn like straw across a bed for a horse. Some were impaled on standing spears, and some were splayed on the blood-stained grass, their bodies torn open with weapons similar to their own. Only few remained standing at the bottom of the hillside, where the attack had been lessened and halted. Beleg had been near that area.

His brother had stood at the front of the lines, as commander of the archers.

_An arrow was thrust into Beleg's hands. He glanced down at it before looking at his brother with a puzzled expression on his face. "What is this? I already have many arrows in my quiver—I need no more to shoot." He tried to give it back, but Caildae shook his head, grinning._

_"This is not just any arrow, Beleg. She is called Dailir, shadow song, for she casts a ghostly hue across the field as the bow sings with her in her melody. Keep her safe for me." When Beleg stared at it speechlessly, Caildae simply chuckled and sprinted off across the field. _

_Beleg regained his senses. __"Be safe, brother!" he called to Caildae._

_His brother simply laughed and saluted him. "And you, Beleg!" he replied, marching to the front of the phalanx._

_Beleg smiled to himself, holding the arrow given to him. Dailir._

A shadow had fallen over. Caildae was gone, like Father.

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 398 - Mounds of Menegroth)<em>

It almost seemed foolish to hope that the Valar would stop taking Beleg's loved ones from him. He continued to lose those around him, in an untimely fashion. His mother's spirit left the world after being unable to cope with the death of her husband and eldest son. He silently walked the wood paths of Doriath, his head bowed as he passed the mound of his family. But something red caught his eye, and for a moment, he thought he was seeing blood again.

A shudder passed through him before he pulled his bow from his shoulder and nocked an arrow at whatever movement had occured.

At the end of the arrow's range was a red-haired figure, the tendrils of red flowing down past her waist. She looked faintly amused at his instinctive reaction and held her hands up in a sign of truce. Her warm brown eyes shone with good humor. And she spoke, catching Beleg off guard;

"Have you come here to visit your family as well?"

Beleg hesitantly lowered the arrow and replied, "Indeed. I come here often."

A smile appeared on her face. "You shouldn't brood over their deaths."

Thunder rumbled in the distance. The sky seemed to darken, unlike before. Beleg lifted his eyes to the now dark grey sky, watching as rain droplets pelted the earth gently. Then he turned to the Elf before him and said, "My lady, you should get out of the rain before it gets worse."

Her smile widened into a grin. "I am not afraid of the rain."

"The rain brings a bad omen, with such a grey, melancholy sky."

"The clouds will have to be melancholy, for they carry the tears of the earth, and all of the sorrows that accompany it," she responded, stepping a few inches forward.

Beleg blinked. He came to the cognizance that this Elf would not take shelter. "You make it sound as if the earth could cry."

"And the trees can sing. The trees know the sorrows of the earth, because they take in the tears that the clouds carry, and relieve the clouds of their burden. In turn, they are filled with knowledge and life." She started to twirl gracefully, skipping lightly from place to place. Her hands almost seemed to caress the air as she lifted her arms to receive the rain. "And sometimes, there are happy tears, because joy is brought to the earth like never before."

"Happy tears?" Beleg repeated.

She inclined her crown of auburn hair towards him, a mirthful expression lighting her features. "Crying is not a bad thing. It shows that you are capable of feeling. And happy tears show that you are capable of receiving and spreading joy."

"Foolish."

She simply continued to dance in the rain, hair swirling around her like a curtain of deep red silk, eyes only getting lighter and lighter until they threatened to turn golden. "It is foolish, but it is enlightening," she sang. Then, seeing the simply not-understanding face of Beleg, she added, "You should probably get going now; the rain is only going to continue until the clouds move away."

Beleg stayed where he was, a smile spreading across his features as well. "I think I shall stay and listen to your 'enlightening' words. What is your name?"

"Ambrae."

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; 486 - Menegroth)<em>

"Ambrae..."

She simply smiled and placed a hand against his cheek. "Go, Beleg. Your friend needs you."

Beleg sighed, Anglachel's hilt clutched tightly in his hand. "I cannot leave you like this."

Ambrae shook her head, and a lock of hair fell into her eyes. "We will meet again, Beleg. Whether you want to or not, we will most definitely meet again. You have nothing to worry about."

"I have everything to worry about. You almost manage to get into some kind of danger or trouble or situation that involves discomfort and pain," he replied firmly. "I simply cannot leave you like this, but I could not ask you to come with me into exile as well."

"Ask me."

"I cannot."

"Then what do you want me to say, Beleg? That I will come with you even if you refuse my company?"

He looked sad. "I want you to promise me that you will stay out of danger—that you will try to stay alive."

She looked distinctly shocked and a little annoyed. "I can't promise that!" she exclaimed incredulously.

"So you were just going to go off, doing all sorts of reckless things when I left?"

"That about sums up all of it."

"Promise me," he pleaded. "Please. Promise me that you will try to stay alive!"

There was a pregnant silence in which Ambrae gazed at Beleg with scrutiny. She could not determine why he was giving her such a ridiculous request—to promise him that she would try to stay alive. Her eyes flickered from his hand to his face, and to his eyes filled with sadness and sorrow. He was holding something back, by the feeling of uncertainty that radiated off of him. She breathed in slowly and stood as tall as she could, adding height by standing on the toes of her feet.

Then, she pressed her lips to his forehead for a brief movement before pulling back and rocking back on her heels, a wistful look on her face. Beleg had closed his eyes.

"I promise you."

* * *

><p><em>(First Age; Unknown year - Halls of Mandos)<em>

"You were holding something back that day," Ambrae accused. "Then you left and were killed, and I was killed afterwards. Now that we are both dead, you shouldn't have any regrets. Now, you can finally tell me what you really wanted to say."

Beleg wrung his hands. "I... I did want to tell you, but I could not risk it."

"Risk _what_, exactly?"

"The people that I love tend to end up here," he replied calmly. "My mother, father, brother—I have seen them all here. Túrin. He was here as well. His spirit now lies beyond the grasp of Arda. And now, you are here. You have died, and everyone that I once knew has perished."

Ambrae chuckled. "You could tell me that you love me in the more direct way, Beleg."

He frowned. "But me loving you isn't the point. What I am trying to express is the fact that every single person that I have ever loved and cared for has died. Do you realise how much guilt and regret I feel, knowing that you probably died because of some curse placed on me at birth? Because of _me_?"

"Do you know how much happiness I feel, knowing that I can finally be with you and love you without dying, because I'm already dead?" she argued. "Do you know how much love I have accumulated, for every single second that you were away from me? Do you know how much I missed you, and how much of a hole had grown in my heart because you left? I am in a happier place now, and you are here with me. Why do you feel guilty? Why do you feel regret?"

"Because I did this to you."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "You're right. You did do this to me." Beleg bowed his head. But her next statement caused him to look up in disbelief. "You made it impossible for me to die up until now, and I've been living in so much pain and sadness. I've been living with loneliness. You're the reason I'm dead."

He smiled sadly. "I know."

"You're the reason why I wanted to die."

"I—what?"

"And you're the reason I want to be here, with you."

"Ambrae..."

"It's all your fault," she said firmly. "It's your fault that I'm absolutely bursting with joy, that I always smile when I think of you, that I always want your arm around my waist—that I want to be with you even in death. It is _your fault that I love you_."

"You're being ridiculous."

"I'm being a ridiculous, lovesick fool. And if that's what it takes to be with you, then I'll be one forever."

"We wouldn't want that happening," he joked. "Alright. It is my fault."

"Yes, it is."

"And I'm glad it is."

Ambrae smiled widely and wrapped her arms around Beleg, burying her face into his chest. "I knew you would come to your senses."

His arms encircled her shoulders as well, and he rested his chin on top of her head. "I was always at the height of my senses. I just refused to admit it."

"And who's fault is that?" she responded.

* * *

><p><em>(Unknown time)<em>

Two fëa, one red-haired and one silver-haired, walked through the archway connecting Mandos to Valinor. They were holding hands.

The red-haired fëa smiled and squeezed the other's hand tighter. She was rewarded with a pat on the head.

* * *

><p><strong>Beleg says, "And now it's over."<strong>

**Ambrae says, "Yes, it is. What was with that at the end? Am I some kind of dog to you?"**

**"Well..."**

**"Don't even answer that question, Beleg, if you dare answer it that way."**

**"I wasn't even considering it," Beleg answers expressionlessly, the hint of a smile revealed by the twitching of the corner of his mouth. "It's time for you to end the story, and go back to Galad Estel's ****domain..."**

**Ambrae rolls her eyes. "It was nice, staying in Duilin's realm. But Galad Estel's realm is most definitely better."**

**"But...in this realm, you got to stay with me..."**

**"Bye, Beleg."**

**"Okay. No goodbye kiss? You gave me a cheap peck on the forehead when I left..."**

**"Did you expect me to full-out tackle you and press you into the ground? You were leaving. Why the Helcar would I give you the joy of that?"**

I just couldn't resist adding this...


End file.
